Ponderings And Observations Of An Injured Pirate
by JaxLass
Summary: HMS Forthright drabbles. PostCotPB. Jack's trapped and injured aboard a royal navy ship captained by Groves. Can a pirate hope to forge an alliance with one of the enemy long enough to escape?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: In truth, not mine.**

Mini-Drabble from an AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE.**

An injured Jack weighs his poor chances of escape from aboard the _HMS Forthright_.

**FREEDOM CONTEMPLATED.**

_Concentrate. Think of what you want._

_I want to lie here and rest until the pain goes away, OK?_

_Think of what you need then._

_My freedom. A way off this bloody ship would be nice._

_Oh, fine. Think. What can you do?_

_Think – that's pretty much it. Options not very promising what with a bad shoulder and all._

_Swimming? No. Drowning._

_Rope climbing? No. Falling._

_Weapons? No. Uh, teeth?_

_Hat? No. Missing._

_.Hat? Wait, the bloody hat's not counting for planning purposes here, idiot._

_Well, no, but I miss it, anyway._

_Oh, and it's not like you've lost it before… how many times, ey?_

_In truth, a bit too many to remember. Miscreant Barbossa tried to nick it last time. Heh, musta gotten tired of that raggedy old feathery thing. _

_Concentrate, mate. What do we know then?_

_We're in a lot of trouble, really._

_TBC._


	2. Fearless and Clean

**PONDERINGS OF A TRAPPED AND INJURED PIRATE**

Mini-Drabble from an AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE.**

An injured Jack muses about self-identity as he hides from Norrington aboard the _HMS Forthright_.

**FEARLESS AND CLEAN.**

Another attempt to stand left Jack woozy, swaying on wobbly legs. Tender, raw skin pulled painfully across his sewn shoulder. Fearing he might have re-opened the wound, he tried to ease himself back down only to lose his balance. He fell back with a gasp, too weak to rise again.

No plan; nowhere to go, anyway.

No choices, really.

No worries, I'm... Captain Jack Sparrow.

No. Remember. Today I'm one Joshua Blackstone - the epitome of a gentleman proper in the Crown's employ. Daring, brilliant and fearless?

Well, maybe fearless and... rather _clean_.

Oh, yes, that was him. Jack laughed to himself, turning over his right hand, critically examining his splayed palm. Scrubbed terribly pink as a newborn.

Was this the end, then? Was it time to release the Sparrow to where he'd been given birth in freedom? He hadn't really looked back; hadn't wanted to look back as all he ever saw was the older man's disappointment and disdain. Had he even tried to understand why?

"_The name ain't who ya are, Jackie, boy, ya only believe in it 'cause ya think ya need more."_

"_Which you could say is really believing more in me own self, is it not?" _

"_Or foolin' yourself more into believin' the lie of it, boy."_

Jack sighed at the bitter, unwanted memory. He had not once in his life won an argument with that sly man and had finally given up trying. He didn't need anyone's approval to be who was, afterall.

TBC


	3. Tread Carefully

**Disclaimer: They are, in fact, not mine.**

Mini-Drabble 3 from an AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE.**

**AN**: **PONDERINGS** is a 7-drabble piece from a full-length post-CotBP AU novel - **A PIRATE'S LIFE NO MORE**. It has the elements of mystery, adventure & the supernatural with large doses of humor while focusing on Jack's volatile alliance with Groves, the newly minted captain of the _HMS Forthright_. There's romance too, but it's doubtful Jack actually wants a woman accused of having her missing lover kill her husband. Besides, he's too busy maintaining a false identity and evading Norrington.

The 7 drabbles are posted to see if there's enough interest in this story. If not, I'll table it for a while and concentrate more on the **IN ABSENTIA** prequel **WHICH WAY LIES TRUE** before my classes resume the second week of Sept. Thank you for the great support!!!

**TREAD CAREFULLY**

An injured Jack considers the merits and pitfalls of trust.

For several fearful moments, Jack had considered his chances of tying a rope around an overhead support beam and dropping through the small window into the harbor. The rational part of his brain had ridiculed such idiocy. He would hopelessly sink to the bottom of the cove and drown. The calmer side of him couldn't think where to locate a coil of rope to do the stupid deed, anyway.

_You're needing a better plan than to be stuck on another tiny island, idiot_, Jack chastized himself. _You'll be needing to trust Groves for this_.

He balked at the idea, bitterly recalling that the last time he_ attempted _to trust someone, he'd been left behind by his own crew, stranded on a deserted island, all but choked to death by Twigg and then nearly hung in Port Royal.

There had to be _another _way.

Cautiously he swung both legs off the mattress to the deck. Again, the strenuous effort left him weak and dizzy. For a frightening moment he had to steady himself against the bulkhead to keep from toppling over.

And where was William Turner now? Safely tucked in Port Royal, no doubt, with _her_. Had the blacksmith learned yet, he wondered, the part that Jack had played in his father becoming a pirate? If not, he really hoped that when that story made it to young Turner's ears, he had no sword within his reach or someone would be hurt.

His first effort to stand failed dismally. For some reason, his legs refused to hold his own weight and the brutal throbbing in his shoulder made it harder to think clear.

What did he know about Groves?

Like Will Turner, he seemed a decent man. Although he lacked Will's innocence and desire to save his fair damsel from a distressing fate, his sense of justice seemed as strong. Groves had had no qualms about offering Jack a cup of water in the _Dauntless_ brig when Twigg had tried to choke him for causing Koehler's death. Thinking Jack had stirred Barbossa's crew up, the guards had chained him to the wall of his own cell, left to dwell miserably in the taunting certainty that he alone would face the hangman's knot upon their return to Port Royal.

Unlike William, Groves thought that he already knew Jack in another incarnation, and favorably so. Jack realized that he would have to tread carefully where Joshua Blackstone was concerned. People changed in seven years and he felt a bit unclear as to Groves' expectations. What did he know about agents of the Imperial Crown? He may be English born yet England was never his home.

_"Had a brush with East India Trading Company, did we?"_

Norrington had no idea.

TBC


	4. Shiny Coin

**Disclaimer: They are, in fact, still not mine.**

Mini-Drabble 4 from an AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE.**

**SHINY COIN**

Ailing Jack is in a place where only he can see whom has the ability to haunt him.

**AN**: In the next 2 drabbles: 4/**SHINY COIN** and 5/**ANOTHER CHANCE**, Jack is in the throes of delirium from his injury and may reveal a few things he would normally not tell anyone. Jamie Trenton is Groves steward and Mr. Harker is the helmsman.

As mentioned, these drabbles are to see if there's enough interest in the story to complete and post it. However, **IN ABSENTIA's** prequel, **WHICH WAY LIES TRUE **is still trying to write itself. But then I _did _leave poor Jack on a small, deserted island with Hector, the dog in the midst of a horrendous storm! He's probably not too happy right now. Sorry, Jack.

Jamie frowned at the unsettling sight that met him. Although still not awake since his crude surgery, the pirate lay in a semi-fetal position, arms wrapped tightly about both shoulders, trembling. The heavy wool blanket had fallen to his waist. As they approached, Jack writhed, twisting onto his back with a low, guttural moan. Trenton gave a start when he realized the dark brown eyes were half-open, staring at him.

"Uh, Mr. Jack?"

''Why... take it? 'S not but a shiny coin... no bloody birthright..." Jack frowned and clenched his right fist as if holding something tightly inside it.

"Uh, what?" Trenton traded confused looks with Mr. Harker.

Mr. Harker frowned. "I don't think he can really _see_ you, Jamie."

"Then the fever's upon him?"

"Aye. Been this way for hours," Mr. Harker replied. He reached into the water bowl at the head of the chart table, wrung out a piece of cloth and pressed it gingerly to Jack's forehead. "By what I been hearin', this lad's a curious one, to be sure."

In response to the pressure upon his temple, Jack's head jerked up, eyes closing, muttering almost coherently. "...hunted me... burned me... " He scowled at someone only he could see. "…died in a cell…" Despite his unconscious state, his palm clasped protectively over the naked white 'P' embedded above his right wrist. "… tell what... man can do... Had to take it... …_did _change me... …thirteen years… please, Dad... I'm …sorry..."

TBC


	5. Another Chance

**Disclaimer: Let's examine that claim, shall we? Nope, not mine.**

Mini-Drabble-5 from an AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE.**

**ANOTHER CHANCE**

During his delirium, Jack's rescuer and captor makes his decision.

Left alone for the moment, Andrew drew a chair to the make-shift bedside and sat, pressing his hands into his face with remorse and self-doubt. He knew that now would be his _last_ chance to change the course of his intended actions. Yes, time enough still remained for him to bundle off an ailing Jack to the dank brig – to his death; to deny himself – and his co-conspirators - culpability in a situation with no hope of redemption for _any_ of them if they were caught harboring a wanted pirate.

Unfortunately, another part of him, perhaps the wicked, bold part he had thought left behind on the _Lady Pryde_, dared him to defiantly flaunt a pirate in the insolent, arrogant face of Thomas Walbridge and his subservient lackey, Samuel Mattison.

Or maybe there was another reason. He just had not acknowledged it yet. Maybe he simply felt that Joshua Blackstone deserved another chance to live.

"Truth?" A soft, familiar voice said above in a mildly hurt tone. "No truth at all…"

Groves abruptly shot his head up, half-expecting the pirate to be regarding him with dark, haunted eyes. Sparrow still slept, oblivious, brows drawing together in either disapproval or indignation.

"You really know nothin' of what it's like, _Miss_ Swan… just a bloody song to you…"

TBC

AN: Thank you all for the wonderful responses!

I originally set up for 7 drabbles, but I can post **OBSERVATIONS** –dialogue drabbles in which Jack nearly alienates Groves. The bare-bones draft of **PIRATE'S LIFE** is done, it just needs fleshing out. I will admit, one of the most wrenching hurdles was Jack seeing his _Pearl_ again and being unable to acknowledge her!

FYI: Fourteen years prior, Beckett sent the EITC ship _Kugaran to _hunt down Jack. Jack remarks early in the story how Barbossa reportedly sank her 9 years previously off the coast of Africa. Lt. Timothy Walbridge is the _Forthright's_ XO and Norrington's man. Midshipman Samuel Mattison is the haughty son-in-law of the _Dauntless _captain.


	6. No Rum For Mr Jack

**Disclaimer: If they were mine, I wouldn't need to write about them, ey? **

Mini-Drabble -6 from an AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE.**

**NO RUM FOR MR. JACK.**

An injured Jack laments his inability to steal any rum.

"Hey, Switzsky, you thievin' dog! That's me last bottle of rum!" SPLASH!!

Bloody hell. That had to be the third time they'd chased the stupid sailor over the rail in the last hour, Jack thought, staring at the dull bulkhead walls covered in crude charts and maps. Taylor really needed to find a better place for his stash or the idiot's greed would get him drowned. Not that the pirate cared if he did, but it would be a shame to lose good rum to an inept thief. Especially when Jack could have made use of it himself. Right now.

_"Sorry, Mr. Jack. Doctor says it be for his medi-cole purposes and not your pleasure," Groves steward had politely informed him earlier._

_"What if, say his medical purposes was my pleasure and therefore my medical purposes would be his pleasure as well, that being the generosity of his doling out of his medical rum to the pleasure of purpose, savvy?" _

_"Okay, but no rum for Mr. Jack."_

_"No rum for Mr. Jack," Sparrow had mocked sullenly. "That's Captain Jack. And how incredibly heartless is that," he had whined. "I ask you, what's a teaspoon to hurt? A drop on the tongue? Oh, for pity's sake, can I not just run me finger around the rim of the bloody bottle? Can no one here see I'm in pain!"_

No amount of pouting or wheedling had swayed the immovable steward. Finally, too exhausted to pursue it, Jack had settled on the pillows in a dark sulk. Conjured images of an incensed self tackling the boy to the deck, snatching the keys off his belt and drinking himself into a giddy stupor cheered him for awhile.

Until Mr. Trenton returned and opened the cabin window.

Torment to Jack's perceived torture.

The pungent, always familiar smell of boiling tar and an occasional hammering told Jack that they still had repairs to complete; the raucous shouting and heavier splashes also told him that they were doing them without beaching the ship. For good reason. It had been awhile since he'd visited, but he recalled that the cove was almost too small for an English Man-o-War the size of the _Forthright,_ to maneuver. She had to sit _aft to fore _in the narrow, cliff bordered channel. Not a good spot to get trapped in should the _Kugaran _return. Pirates called the place 'Humpback Island' because the mountainous north side prevented any view of the open ocean.

Captain Groves was right to keep his guard up -even if his crew wasn't alert enough to be battle-ready.

Unfortunately, neither was Jack Sparrow, he thought wryly.

TBC

AN: The _Pearl _was in a pitched battle with the _Kugaran_ when Jack was injured and accidently yanked overboard when Gibbs fell into the water.


	7. Pleasant Company

**Disclaimer: Mine they're not.**

Mini-Drabble-7 from an AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE.**

**PLEASANT COMPANY**

Jack uses trickery, timing and charm to gain a needed respite.

He awoke to pain, a sore throat and the usual sense of confusion. It took him a moment to recall as the ship rocked his bed gently. Wallberg's threat. Captain Groves cabin. A bucket?

And why did his mouth taste like sour bile?

Oh, no...

Was there no end to his shame as Joshua Blackstone?

Worse, Jack had to reach out to another for help -- an enemy and co-conspirator. A man he had to trust with his life. A man who may have to betray his fellow officers to save him. He hadn't really questioned why Groves was risking so much to help a convicted pirate. He, apparently, had been at Port Royal when Jack had commandeered the _Interceptor_ and later when he'd fallen from the cliff at Fort Charles. Groves seemingly knew who and what Jack was and oddly didn't condemn him.

The captured _Kugaran_ smugglers were a different sort of problem.

For the moment, hopefully, Blackstone was considered too infirmed for a short boat trip to the _Dauntless to _meet said smugglers

Jack Sparrow wasn't feeling too well either.

"Oh, Mr. Blackstone?"

Jack cringed inwardly. Lady Izzie back to admire his doltish other self, no doubt.

This woman could not be trusted despite what Groves believed. She would not distract Jack -- even if he looked like Blackstone. Yes, without almost a decade worth of disguise, he knew that he must resemble the idealistic young man whom Beckett had branded pirate and William Turner often had reminded him of. But by the time he had escaped from the EITC's prison, that youth had perished.

Jack felt an almost forgotten ache inside before he could supress it. It had nothing to do with the pain in his shoulder or the rancid rawness of his throat. He'd seen grieving Angelia standing by his gravestone behind the churchyard and been unable to offer her comfort.

There had been no Jack Teague to bury.

"Mr. Blackstone?"

Jack cracked an eye open tentatively. The woman was hovering inches from his face. He fought an instinctual Jack-urge to grab her and pull her down on top of himself. Not only was it something the properly boorish Blackstone would never think to do, but Jack suspected that this woman may have ruthlessly caused her husband's death to run off with a smuggler. "Sorry, Lady Isabelle," he whispered in his cultured Blackstone voice. "Bad dream, I fear. It's kind of you to inquire of me, though." _But you're disturbing me rest_, Jack complained.

"How could I not," she returned with a less concern in her voice, pulling back enough for Jack to see that she was the only one in the cabin with him. "Timothy informed me this morning of your unfortunate... incident. I do sincerely apologize for insisting that you join us, Joshua. I had thought that a good meal and pleasant company would have done you wonders."

_What pleasant company was that?_ Jack thought. Joshua, however, adopted a forgiving smile. "You could not have known what would happen, please do not distress yourself over my welfare, Lady Isabelle." _Now, Izzie, would you kindly leave?_ Jack urged.

"Dear man, it seems that I was greatly mistaken and I cannot blame myself enough for causing you such...ah, physical discomfort."

"You're quite forgiven, I assure you," Joshua insisted, stilling Jack's hands from wrapping themselves around her neck. The pirate felt less than charitable. _Ha! Forgive you? I puked my bloody guts out in a bucket, you silly wench! _

"That is so very kind of you, Joshua. I just wanted to be certain that you were all right before I joined Timothy on the_ Dauntless_."

_Do I look all right to you? _Jack jeered. "Might I inquire how soon they will be leaving us?"

"I believe Timothy said tomorrow with the first tide. They wanted to head to someplace called Lockinghorn or _something_ for supplies."

"Loadhorn," Jack answered before he could stop himself.

"You know it then?"

"Ay-, uh, yes, I've heard of it," he returned more carefully. "Settled by Spanish missionaries years ago after the English colony was wiped out." _Spent five days hiding out in the mission from French mercenaries. I wonder if Friar Diagarzo be there still?_

"Yes, I understand it has prospered into a small fishing village and trading port." She watched Jack rub the sling supporting his left arm as he glanced longingly at the water pitcher on the table beside his bed. "Is there... anything I can do for you before I leave, Joshua?"

_Works every time_, Jack thought slyly. "Could I... trouble you for a glass of water, please, Lady Isabelle? I'm really quite thirsty."

"Oh, of course. How rude of me not to offer you one. I didn't think to!"

_Okay, Joshua, make this look good_, Jack advised him. _You may not get another chance, mate_.

Lady Isabelle was oblivious to the two personalities vying for control of the reclining body behind her. She missed the bizarre struggle of facial expressions. When she finished pouring water into the glass to carry to the man in the bed, Joshua smiled up at her with beauteous innocence. He reached out for the glass with trembling fingers and missed it, but only by enough not to make it obvious. Offering the woman a slight apologetic smile, he tried again. The glass shook so violently in his grasp that he spilled half of it on his stomach. The pitying look he waited for appeared instantly. "Oh, Joshua, Captain Groves was quite right. You need to stay in bed and regain your strength. You are in no fit condition to join us on the _Dauntless_ this evening. I shall most certainly convey your apologies to the gracious commodore."

Jack merely nodded, not trusting Joshua to say the appropriate platitude. He gestured again at the glass and she placed it against his lips to allow him to take several sips.

"Captain Groves," Jack whispered hoarsely, pressing his palm flat against his chest to keep his rebellious fingers still. "Please...?" To his chagrin, as convincing as his invalid performance was for Lieutenant Wallberg's lady, he found that he did lack the energy to do more than lie there. He would still have to rely on Groves to keep him off the _Dauntless_ and out of Norrington's sight for one more day.

Until he could think of something else, of course.

Done.

AN: Lady Isabelle flirted with Jack enough at the dinner to cause jealous Wallberg to threaten him. Wallberg, in turn, suspects that Jack knows something about the two captured smugglers held on the _Dauntless_ and, of course, he does!

So ends the PONDERINGS drabbles from A PIRATE'S LIFE NO MORE. Thank you to all who enjoyed and reviewed them. If you want more drabbles, please let me know.


	8. 1  Recognition

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. I only claim Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

**OBSERVATIONS OF A TRAPPED AND INJURED PIRATE**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: In appreciation for those asking for more excerpts from the still-to-be-finished AU story, here is another set. Unlike the first, these are in order. I hope the summaries help.**

**Fair warning: You might even feel sorry for Captain Andrew Groves.**

**Part 1 - RECOGNITION**

Summary: Jack may have seen the face of his captor before.

"Anything leather he can bite down on?" Harker looked around frantically. "An old belt?"

Andrew nodded and rushed over to a sea chest. He found an old, well-worn leather belt and brought it back, moving uncertainly behind the shaken pirate.

Dr. Hasting touched the splinter.

With a wrenching cry, Jack threw back his head, dark eyes wild and panic-stricken. Apprehensive, Groves moved to press the leather between the pirate's bared teeth. The captain could swear that he saw a brief flare of recognition in those dark eyes before the intensity of pain clouded them again.

"Just bite down on this, lad."

Jack did, however, as he was bid, frantic, gasping breaths escaping past the leather.

Dr. Hasting nodded grimly at Trenton and Harker, then wrapped both hands around the damp splinter and pulled. Jack stiffened, his fingers clawing air. Digging the heels of his booted feet into the mattress, he arched up, straining furiously against his pinned limbs.

"Cuuarrghh yaugh allgh tauggh taugh deeegh pparrgh ouughh haalugh!!! Jack howled in anguish through the muffling leather.

"What?" Harker glanced across at Trenton, valiantly struggling to hold Jack's arms to the mattress.

"I think," the steward said in a harried tone, "he said '_curse you all to the deepest part of hell'_!"

"Aye. That'd be 'bout right."

TBC


	9. Part 2  No Chains

**Disclaimer: Would that they could be, but they are not mine. I claim only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

**OBSERVATIONS OF A TRAPPED AND INJURED PIRATE**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: **It's been almost two days since a piece -about the size of a broken cutlass- from a shattered spar was taken out of Jack's left shoulder. Groves can't bring himself to toss a sick and injured man into the ship's brig even if he is an infamous pirate.

**Part 2 - NO CHAINS**

Summary: Jack can't believe that he's not awakening in the navy ship's brig.

"Let go of me, you bloody, mangy mutinous cur!"

Groves almost knocked the rum bottle off the table in shock. It took him barely a second's confusion to realize that outcry had blasted from his own chartroom. "Mother of God, he's goin' to send us all to the gallows! Trenton, go fetch Dr. Hasting!

Stunned and wide-eyed, his steward blinked, then rushed to the door.

Groves didn't see the young man leave, crossing the planked deck in three strides. As before, Jack looked innocent of transgressions. His acute agitation, however, was evident. The white nightshirt and sheet clung to his skin in sticky sweat.

"…be okay, please just get Elizabeth outta here… …don't have to be doin' anythin' for me, William… …wantin' to be a pirate like your father?"

"The water cup." Could it be that easy to shut Jack up?

"…not all that wonderfully colorful and romantic _now_, is it, _Miss _Swann?"

Andrew recalled Harker's words and reached past Jack's good shoulder. "I honestly don't believe you talk this much _awake_," he remarked wryly. He lifted Sparrow's dark head off the pillow, caught off-guard to see unfocused, bleary brown eyes. "You _are_ awake then, aren't you?"

Jack's eyes narrowed with distrust and confusion. "No," he breathed, tentatively licking his bottom lip. "…imagination, mate." His gaze wavered, and then fixed with open longing upon the cup in Groves' hand in much the same way it had almost a year ago in the _Dauntless_ brig. "Please…?"

"Yes, of course." Andrew said, overcome with relief. "Jack, how do you feel?"

The pirate narrowed his eyes, regarding Groves vaguely. "Stupid..." His right hand curled up toward Andrew's face, paused, and then flinched back before a long forefinger poked at his brocade jacket. "…what... ship is this?"

"The _HMS Forthright_. Here, drink."

Jack hesitated, digesting that. He glanced over at the cup with an uncertain frown. "English, then…"

"Yes. Seems you went for a swim."

The corner of Jack's mouth quirked and he shifted his eyes back up to Andrew. "I… do that sometimes… Ah, thank you."

"Slowly," Groves advised, pressing the cup against Jack's lips. The pirate managed a few careful swallows before most of the water spilled down on his neck. He cocked his head, pulling a half-rueful, half-apologetic pout.

"Soooorrrry 'bout that…"

"Yes, I'm sure you are."

"Bit more, please… kindly?"

"Drink it slowly, Jack."

"Did…"

"Who was the _Pearl _firing upon?"

"Ship…" He closed his eyes momentarily and then his right arm came up again. He peered at his wrist in mild curiosity, flexing it. "…no chains…?"

"No chains," Andrew assured him, knowing that Sparrow would not yet understand. "Careful, don't drink too fast." Jack's perplexed brows rose above the cup's rim, tired eyes fixing on the decorative uniform sleeve inches from his nose as if he could only concentrate on one thought at a time. Andrew waited to see how long before that quick mind of Sparrow's would recover.

Jack choked on the tepid liquid.

TBC:

**Part 3 - I DO LIKE TEA**


	10. Part 3  I Do Like Tea

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. I claim only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

**OBSERVATIONS OF A TRAPPED AND INJURED PIRATE**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**Part 3 - I DO LIKE TEA**

Summary: Jack learns to drink what that which he does not prefer.

"...you…again?..."

"Well, at least you remember _something_," Groves countered.

Jack returned with a weak smirk. "Navy ship. No chains, that right?"

"That is correct. Anything else?"

Jack bit the bottom of his lip in dismay, and then shook his head. "Maybe later?"

"Mr. Harker, please get our guest a cup of tea, no doubt he would like something to drink."

"Ohhh, whaaat?" Jack shot him a disgusted look. "Do not - never drink… tea…" he objected, physically exhausted by the effort to say more than that.

Groves ignored the feeble protest. "Jack, you had a fever. You need lots of liquids and I have a fresh pot of tea left from my evening meal."

Sparrow looked unconvinced, but said nothing further as he watched Harker add several spoonfuls of sugar into a steaming gray ceramic cup. Too thirsty to offer more resistance, he allowed Groves to lift his head, wincing as his wounded shoulder was jostled. "'S Okay," he said in a hoarse whisper, and without waiting for Andrew's prompting, he greedily drank half the cup.

"Dr. Hasting was worried about you," Groves told him, sitting back down.

Jack shook his head with a weary smile. "Any chance of spicin' me tea up, maybe? A little?"

"With rum?" Andrew ventured, knowing from Jack's expression that he could hear the disapproval. "It's meant for medical purposes, I'm sorry."

Jack's smile twisted on his lips. "Am I not, of a sort, a medical purpose… kind of…?" He angled his head to look at his stitched shoulder. "Meant for me, 'ey?"

"You, sir, have already diminished _half_ of our allowed ration on this trip," Andrew chided, shaking his head. "Would you take my private stock reserved for social gatherings, as well?"

The pirate snorted in exasperation. "Medical rum, social rum. Is there _no_ rum to be found on this bloody ship for one to drink just for the drinking of it?!"

"Sorry, Jack_. That's_ the rum that you've already drunk."

TBC

**Part 4 – FROM HIS SICKBED**


	11. Part 4  From His Sickbed

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. I only claim Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

**OBSERVATIONS OF A TRAPPED AND INJURED PIRATE**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: ****Apologies for those waiting for the next drabble installment, as real life just got a little more crazy at home. I share a house with 6 guys so I will leave such insanity up to the imagination!**

**In response to one review: Yes, I do have an irreverent, angst-light style with which I feel most comfortable with, but I think that it reflects my own sense of humor! Yes, I can go darker, but it takes a bit more effort.**

**Part 4 - Whereupon Jack meets the rescued Lady LaBarre – a woman claiming to have been held prisoner aboard the ship that tried to take **_**the Pearl**_**. She is searching for her missing lover, an itinerant smuggler.**

**Part 4 – FROM HIS SICKBED**

Summary: Jack can charm a lady even in his sleep.

"...navy ship...?"

Andrew nodded. "Two days now. Like some more tea?"

Jack gave him a faint, sleepy smile. "I find I do like it... apparently with _loads_ of sugar…" He gingerly rubbed his left arm below the shoulder wound.

"You drank most of it last time."

"Did I?" The smile faded into open bewilderment before noticing the woman hovering behind his host. "Oh, who is the lady friend then?"

"My name is Isabelle Wallington-LeBarre," she said eagerly, not waiting for Groves. "And you are?"

"Ah." Jack darted an uncertain look at Groves. "One truly tired and sore man it would seem." He offered her a weary, apologetic grin, shivered and then moved his arm to gather the blanket at his chest. "Why am I tired and sore again?"

"You're recovering from considerable blood loss," Andrew supplied. "Dr. Hasting said you would most probably feel like this for a few more days while you heal, barring, of course, an infection sets in."

Jack grimaced. "Uck, wouldn't want that, mate. Nasty things - infections. Your skin goes all greenish, blobby and bumpy - and smells putridly bad."

"You've had one before?" Isabelle wondered, unwillingly entranced by his dark brown eyes surveying her without shame.

Groves frowned. Now was _not_ the time for him to behave like the unprincipled Sparrow. "Lady Isabelle, I must insist we keep this brief. The man clearly needs to rest."

Jack ignored Groves' warning tone, affecting a disarming grin. "No, darlin', but I knew this guy what use to--" Jack stopped, caught by a sneaky yawn. He shot the captain a defiant look, and then closed his eyes wearily. "Sooorry. This recovery thing is…sappin' the air right outta me… lungs by the feeling of it…"

"That would be another thing that Francis lacked then."

"What is that? The ability to sleep through a hurricane?"

"No, this young man's charm."

_Sparrow does it again_, Andrew thought to himself wryly, _from his sickbed, no less_.

TBC


	12. Part 5  An Honest Bed

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**Part 5 - AN HONEST BED**

Summary: Jack has a problem with his humble accommodations.

Jamie, the timid steward, had failed to meet him at the cabin door.

Andrew tossed his hat toward the low table in annoyance, suspecting he already knew where the young man would be. "Oh, Mr. Trenton?"

"In here, sir!" Jamie poked his tousled head hesitantly from around the chartroom alcove. "Sorry, but Mr. Jack had him a foot cramp and I were just-"

"Funny, that. Never actually had one before, what I can recall," remarked a second, deeper voice that could not hope to be mistaken by any man serving on the right side of the law.

Sure enough, Jack lounged with two bunched pillows propped under his head against the bulkhead. He looked comfortable, a scrubbed foot with pinkish toes poking from beneath the wool blanket, his other leg curled below his knee. He flexed and wiggled the affected digit at Andrew, accompanying the act with a wide, if not insincere grin of greeting.

"Toe cramp, Jack?"

The pirate's reply was a lopsided shrug, favoring his left shoulder with a barely perceptible wince. "Makes it hard for one to sleep, mate," he said airily as he rubbed at the hidden bandage without shifting his droll gaze. "And speakin' of hard." He rapped the edge of the mattress with a knuckle, lifting an enquiring brow. "A table? Really. Is it that the navy cannot afford an honest bed for its sorely infirmed... guests or," he ventured, the sharp edge of suspicion in his voice, "perhaps you've availed yourself of a confinin' contraption of an imprisonin' nature what I will probably not find to me liking?"

Andrew didn't attempt to navigate that. "How is your toe now, Jack?"

TBC:

**Part 6 - RESEMBLANCES**


	13. Part 6  Resemblances

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**Part 6 - RESEMBLANCES**

Summary: Jack sees his first advantage through a past event.

"You see this, mate? I've been bloody scoured, wrapped and mended like a torn sailcloth on an unseaworthy vessel and to what purpose, good sir, might I ask? You and your surgeon - you've turned a fierce pirate into one sadly tidied little package fit for a prissy dandy _no_ ship would welcome, have you not? Clever work, that. But I ask you -- Captain Groves, isn't it? -- what reason have you for doin' this to me? Have I wronged you somehow in a past encounter?"

"Well, that was direct," Andrew applauded. "To which, I imagine, you expect as direct an answer?"

"If you please." Jack drew his foot back under the blanket, tossing a dangerous look at Trenton, who quaked and fled the chartroom.

"You may not like the truth."

Jack's smile returned full force, but strained and impatient. "I do have a certain, what you would call, ah, admiration for the truth, but only in as it applies to circumstances of best benefit to my personal education and self-interest, savvy?"

"Spoken like a true pirate."

"Ah, but honest," Jack parried, idly rearranging the blanket across his chest as he suppressed a yawn.

"Fair enough. What do you know about _this_ situation?" Andrew challenged.

Jack was taken aback by the question, his smile twisting into a scowl. He curled and uncurled the fingers of his right hand several times in exasperation. "This situation? Nothing, all right? Bloody English navy ship, no chains, no weapon what to speak of, and no rum." He paused to tap his upper lip in feigned contemplation. "Apparently there was a hurricane - which I slept through, on a table, of all things. And, oh, no bloody name? How is it you plan to address said cabin guest, 'ey? As captain's prisoner, patient or maybe a simple, 'you there, mate'? Hardly appropriate, is it?"

_Damn that Sparrow_, Andrew thought, empathizing how Norrington would have underestimated him. Even in his condition, the pirate did not miss a thing. He must also realize the importance of concealing his name, as he had not insisted upon everyone using it. In fact, he'd just given Andrew the lead and now watched him to see where it would be taken. _Smart, devious man_.

"As it happens," Andrew began tentatively, feeling Sparrow's hard eyes fixed on him. "There is a man whom you greatly resemble; a man I knew years ago."

Jack's brows rose involuntarily, but his mobile face offered no more than heightened interest. "A few years ago, you say?"

"Seven," Andrew said, wondering how much to reveal to an opportunistic pirate like Sparrow. "French brigands boarded the ship and took him off … in chains."

"Brigands? Oh, I see." Sparrow frowned thoughtfully. "That'd be the likely fate of a man what runs afoul of the old Pirate Lord Chavelle. Naught but a short-tempered, flowery buffoon of the Mediterranean Sea," he elaborated, "and him claimin' he has no money."

Andrew nearly lost his train of thought. "Pirate Lord?"

"What?" Jack shifted his legs under the blanket restlessly, cocking his head to one side with a mildly insulted look. "You think we've not the right as well as any lawless country to a sea-faring monarchy, as it were?" He shrugged, closing his eyes briefly. "You should know they been out there for a _long _time, mate."

"You know this… French outlaw, then?"

"Not really. More like an acquaintance of my…" Sparrow momentarily faltered. "Of another pirate. And this Blackstone personage … friend of yours, is he?"

"Well, we... sailed together," Andrew hedged, meeting Jack's probing with caution. "When I saw you the first time in Port Royal, you kind of reminded me of him. In fact, without all the hair, Jack, you could well pass for his brother." _Or Blackstone, _he added inwardly.

"Really?" Jack now sounded intrigued, but wary. "What, with all that hair and grime enough to disguise a decent man - you saw this Blackstone, eh?"

"Not... entirely. As I said, there's a resemblance, nothing more."

"Nothing more, 'ey?" Jack echoed dubiously, brows climbing as he rubbed his tattooed forearm in an absent manner. "Yet, you still offered a thirsty man a cup of water when none would acknowledge his pitiful existence as a pirate," he countered, dark eyes distantly thoughtful.

"So you remembered?" Andrew wasn't sure if he should feel dread or relief.

"Aye." Jack grinned at him disarmingly. "Had it been you guarding the _Dauntless_ that day, Captain Groves -- ah, well, I _might _have hesitated. Then again, probably not." He tilted his head aside and Groves didn't have to hear the word 'pirate' to read it in the man's unabashed, widening grin, displaying every gold tooth in his mouth.

TBC:

**Part 7 - DEAD DULL**


	14. Part 7  Dead Dull

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

More mini-drabbles from the post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: Although the original APLNM **_**draft**_** is half-done, I'm acquiescing to requests and will begin posting on JAMIE'S LOG at the HMS Forthright group. If interested, please send me an e-mail or visit my profile for details. **

**Part 7 - DEAD DULL**

Summary: Jack decides to play the identity game -- and have a little fun.

"How -owww- is it you want me to play this Blackstone then?"

"First, by not referring to him in the second person," Andrew suggested.

"Oh, sorry."

"Are you going to be up for this, Jack?"

"Not really the time to doubt me, is it, mate?"

"Blackstone had a cultured, educated voice and didn't slur words like a drunken sailor."

"Oooh, that would truly wound me, captain, if I didn't find it rather funny."

"And not everything to him was _funny_," Andrew pointed out, feeling like a hopeless schoolmaster instructing a disinterested student.

"Cannot make him dead dull. Sorry." Jack flopped back against the folded pillows, crossing his arms with an expression far from contrition or apology, and waited.

"You're a devout, dedicated agent of the crown," Andrew sighed.

"Not a very good one, apparently, to be caught and shot," Jack countered, "seeing as this," he cautiously patted his bandaged shoulder, "is probably the work of a pistol, is it not?"

Andrew shrugged, uncertain what difference it made. "It could be a sword thrust, if you like."

"Trust me on this, mate." Jack smirked, long forefinger to his temple where the red bandana once resided. "If it were, I'd not have been the only bloody body floatin' in the water, 'ey?"

"Jack, your life must be taken much more seriously to do this!"

"I _do_ take my life seriously," Jack objected, dropping his hand and sagging further against the bulkhead, "just not so much the people I find in it."

Groves knew many of Sparrow's pitfalls now. That was a territory of which he had no desire to cross into. He sighed. "So who are you then?"

"Who am I, eh?" Jack's eyes darkened in reproach, and then a stiff fingertip pressed the edge of his bottom lip. "That'd be Joshua bloody Blackstone, cultured, refined and educated bloody agent of the royal crown," he crowed, "and bloody tired of people tryin' to blow me outta the bloody water with their bloody little guns!!!"

"JACK!!!!"

"Ah, sorry, mate. Had to get that lil' rant in 'fore I went all deadly serious and dull, 'ey?"

Again, no chastened look from the makeshift bed's occupant. The brazen pirate captain openly reveled in Andrew's discomfort.

"Fine. So who are you again?"

"As it happens, one tired, sore, putout pirate what does not want to play anymore. G'night, Captain Groves."

TBC:

**Part 8 - ENDORSEMENT OF TRUST**


	15. Part 8  Endorsement of Trust

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**Part 8 - ENDORSEMENT OF TRUST**

Summary: Jack has his own ideas about being the perfect patient.

Appetite lacking, Andrew only ate a little breakfast, carrying two cups of tea into the chartroom. Jack regarded him from beneath his dark lashes for a few seconds than lifted his head and carefully held out his hand for the teacup.

"It's not flat, is it?"

"Be quiet and just drink it!"

"Oh, testy are we, today?" Jack teased, brows rising slightly as he sniffed the cup's heated contents. "You snore, you know."

Andrew hadn't expected that. "I do _not_ snore!"

"Yes, you do."

"Do not!"

"Do so."

"Do not!"

"Woulda thought they're doin' the repairs _here_ in your bloody cabin," Jack laughed, taking a quick sip of the sugared-down tea. "Oh, soorrry, that's not the sort of thing the cultured and refined me would say, is it?"

Andrew gritted his teeth. "Is that going to stop you?"

"Ha, good one," Jack said appreciatively. "And no, likely as not. But you _never_ really know, do you?"

"Quite literally. And that's what worries me," Andrew conceded, taking a gulp of his tea. "You're too unpredictable for your own good, and mine." The liquid burned all the way down his throat, but he refused to let the pirate see his discomfort.

"_That_ wasn't much of an endorsement of trust," Jack pouted.

Andrew coughed, eyes watering. "I, I fail to see where you've earned any in my estimation."

"Good behavior?" Jack ventured brightly, setting down the cup beside him. "That has to count for something, doesn't it?" His right hand flew a little too close to Andrew's face in a determinedly un-Blackstone gesture. "Have I not been the ideal prisoner, er, rather, patient?"

"If you mean," Andrew returned flatly, catching Jack's wrist in mid-swing, "a patient who has baited, irked, teased, tricked and otherwise attempted to confound me at every turn since he awoke, then, yes, Jack, that makes you truly _ideal_."

Sparrow stared from his captive wrist to the man's glower, relaxing the tight set of his own lips. "Oh, good, we've an understanding. Now, if you would kindly release me limb?"

Andrew's brows rose in disbelief, unsure if he had the upper hand or not. "First, promise me no more wild hand waving. Blackstone does _not_ talk with his hands, Jack."

Sparrow's dark eyes grew in deceptive innocence. "No? Who says he doesn't, ey?" he asked, giving his imprisoned wrist a mild tug. "Oh, all right," he relented. "I promise, no more hands. But you've got to let me play Blackstone as_ I _see him, or this isn't goin' to work!"

"I'd really like to trust you, Jack..." Andrew opened his fist, letting the pirate's arm drop to the blanket. "I _want_ to, but I don't know that I actually can."

"Not like I haven't heard _that_ before, mate."

TBC:

**Part 9 - FINE WIT**


	16. Part 9  Fine Wit

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: Taking a moment to say thank you to my loyal readers and for the wonderful remarks from the **_**Black Pearl Sails**_** group – you are all awesome!! **

**Part 9 - FINE WIT**

Summary: Jack meets the challenge.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. "You'll get your chance soon enough."

"Can't ask for more," Jack said, mildly chafed, reaching for his tea, "'cept maybe a little of the good doctor's rum… No? Pity."

"Drink is the last thing you need," Andrew lamented. "Norrington is no fool, Jack. You'll need your wits about you!"

"My wits are _fine_," Jack protested, lips compressed. From long habit, his arm shot up with forefinger poised. Seeing it from the corner of his right eye, the pirate's lips tightened in chagrin, the errant arm hung in the air briefly as the two men exchanged looks, and then fell to the bed. Jack sighed, admitting defeat. "That wasn't very nice, you know."

"Granted. Who are you?"

Jack's mouth quirked at the corner, warning Groves to expect an irreverent reply. He braced himself.

"Captain Groves, I must thank you for your generous hospitality, kind sir, in the aiding of this humble agent of the crown injured whilst in the performance of his duties. Please do accept his Majesty's gracious appreciation on behalf of Joshua Blackstone."

Andrew stood stunned. "Jack, that was… quite _good,_" he complimented.

"Ah, what can I say, kind sir?" Sparrow spread his arm out wide, grinning devilishly. "Captain Jack Sparrow. Man of the world, 'ey?"

"So it would seem," Andrew returned carefully. "What part of the world do you call home?"

Jack's smile died, replaced by a pensive frown. "Where my ship takes me, mate."

"No one place?"

"What say we never mind about me travels," Sparrow suggested quietly, "and give your man a bit more life, savvy?"

Groves shuddered. "I fear to ask what that means."

"Well, there _is_ a bonny lass aboard…." Sparrow mused.

TBC:

**Chapter 10 - YOU SMELL LIKE RUM**


	17. Part 10  Like Rum

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: The first part of the full story is up at **_**HMS Forthright**_**. Still, APLNM is a raw half-finished draft and will undoubtedly undergo a rewrite before I post it here. **

**Chapter 10 - YOU SMELL LIKE RUM**

Summary: Jack accuses Groves of being drunk.

Jack opened one eye narrowly. "I do not sulk."

"Dr. Hasting thinks so," Andrew countered, meeting the pirate's stare. "That sounds like you _are_."

"That makes you both wrong then," Jack stated flatly, and closed his eye.

"I have sweetened tea," Andrew cajoled, stepping closer with the cup. "You must be thirsty."

Both dark eyes appeared, glaring at Groves in annoyance. "You smell like rum."

"Do you want the tea or not?" Groves asked, exasperated.

Jack's mouth curved into a mocking grin. "Ah, Andrew Groves, the great tea-totaling captain of the _HMS Forthright_, is stupefyingly drunk."

"I'm truly glad that amuses you," Andrew grated, slapping the teacup down with a clink of china.

"Who said I'm amused?" Jack shot back. "I was, in fact, pointing out your self discipline lacking in an abhorrent manner to not bein' of an inspiring nature, savvy?"

"What?"

"I'd like the tea now, if you please." Jack grinned infuriatingly.

"Fine." Andrew shifted the pillow cautiously under Jack's head, propping it against the bulkhead. "You should be glad to know that the commodore did not recognize you. Neither did Captain Shankwell."

Jack took a moment to recover, unclenching his teeth. "Shankwell?"

"Yes, Captain of the _Dauntless_. You know, the ship that you stole in Port Royal?"

Jack sighed. "Commandeered, and only for a little while." He brightened slightly as he took the teacup in one hand. "Norrington _didn't_ know me, you say?"

"No, but next time you see him you will probably have to speak," Groves warned him.

"Aye, sadly true." Sparrow took a sip of tea, mulled it around in his mouth, and swallowed, grimacing. "Bit flat," he said critically. "Could use some rum for flavorin'."

Andrew ignored that. "Have you thought, Jack, about what you want to say to him?"

The pirate smirked. "Yep. And every word of it would get me clapped in irons - even with a darlin' face as this, ey?" He held the teacup up against his chin, offering a playful, self-mocking grin.

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Joshua Blackstone would _not_ behave that way."

"I bloody well know that," Jack huffed. "And I'm rather amenable at this point, if you're not so drunk, as it is, to be offering something suitably untainted of your penchant for snide-e-ness."

Andrea laughed. "That remark aside, you have my full attention."

**TBC:**

**Chapter 11- FOR THE CROWN**


	18. Part 11  For The Crown

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: At present, I'm caught in the middle of a horrendously long and difficult move and have 2 assignments due for class this week. I just wanted to say thank you for the reviews and please keep them coming! We writers/authors really need that feedback! **

**Chapter 11- FOR THE CROWN**

Summary: Jack tells a story of lost treasure.

"Jack, what do you know about the _octal archaic_?"

The pirate stared at him wide-eyed. "How is that a plan? And if it be," he whispered, "you should know that it is _not _one to my liking."

"You know where they are?" It was Andrew's turn to be amazed.

"Of course I know where there are," Jack returned sharply. "On some bloody ship what can't be sunk and kept inside a pouch as red as a man's blood. Most pirates have heard the old stories seein' as it's a true tale of treasure."

"Unattainable treasure."

"Aye, to be sure," Jack concurred wistfully.

"What if I told you they might be on board the _Kugaran_?"

Jack frowned, quickly dismissing the idea. "Cannot be so easy as that, mate."

"The Lady Isabelle claims she's seen this famous pouch." Andrew pursed his lips. "Or maybe it's her lover who has, I don't know."

"And you trust what this woman has to say?" Jack posed.

"Why lie about that?"

"Why not?" Jack countered.

"What would she have to gain?"

"Ah. Well, as to that, certainly your interest for one," Jack pointed out, rigid forefinger erratically poking the space between them. "Of that, she seems to have gained, as I'm seein' it." He paused, consciously lowering his arm. "Think about it, Captain Groves, what better way to get you on her side then, say, the tempting of a thing most treasure is made of, 'ey?"

"Gold?"

"Gold," Jack concurred, the allure and desire raw in his whispered tone. "Pieces older than time, mate. Eight, maybe nine of 'em. Quite a fortune, really. The mysterious Trident coins."

"And also called the _octal archaic_, I've heard."

"Aye. That'd be the ancient eight, all right."

"You said maybe there was nine…."

Jack managed a half-shrug against the pillow, glancing surreptitiously at his bound up left forearm before returning Andrew's gaze. "As I heard it, being the last one separated from the others, is all."

When the wary pirate didn't elaborate, Andrew let it go. "Well, s_he_ thinks Blackstone was caught aboard the _Kugaran_ trying to steal this _octal archaic _for the crown."

"The crown, eh?" Jack laughed ruefully. "An interesting idea, to be sure. What says Norrington to that?"

"He won't know anything about these coins," Andrew determined, "until he speaks with Lady Isabelle."

"Oh." Jack pressed three fingers to his lips. "Where is the Lady Isabelle now?"

"In the galley, according to the doctor, helping cook make a kind of fruit and bread concoction, why?"

Jack nodded. "Ah. I doubt it's a very good idea, captain, to let this one near a knife," he said dubiously, making a stabbing gesture with his right fist, "as I suspect I know what she might do with said utensil to us both should you _not_ believe her."

**TBC:**

**Chapter 12 - PROPERLY GROOMED**


	19. Part 12  Properly Groomed

**Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.**

**AN: While the drabble series winds down, I'm finding the urge to do more work on 'Which Way Lies True', but since they haven't hooked up the computer in my new apartment yet, posting may be **_**tricky **_**for a bit.**

**Chapter 12 - PROPERLY GROOMED**

Summary: Jack jokes about the fate he recently escaped.

"Mr. Blackstone," Trenton reminded him unnecessarily, earning a hard glare from the annoyed pirate captain. "Just a _little_ comb—"

"No," Jack grated, reeling aside and catching the wrist with the comb before it touched his hair. "Not an invalid, mate. Don't need fussin' over, 'ey?"

"But you won't look proper," Jamie objected as Jack released him. "The cap'n says you should be—"

"I'll have you know, son, pirates _do not_ groom," Jack groused absently running the comb a few sweeps at the top of his head and then handing it back to Trenton. "_Now_ I'm a properly groomed Joshur-ah Blackstone, okay?"

Trenton stared at him for several hopeless seconds, then just nodded. It had been a chore to get Sparrow this far. He dubiously eyed the loosely wrapped tie at the man's neck now occupying the wearer's attention as well.

"So who am I?" Jack muttered self-mockingly. "That's Josh-shore-ha Blackrock, er, stone, at your service." He laughed sourly, grabbing the swathing tie's knot to snap it up away from his neck, tilting his head. "Oh, please, kind commodore, sir, please can we have no talk of the hangin' of nasty, ruthless pirates as I'm truly havin' a terry-bull bad time of it due to events _entirely_ not of me own doin' and, please, sir, such awful words could be very detry-mental to one's recovery!"

"Quite glad to see that you have things in their proper perspective," Andrew remarked, ducking through the cabin door. "And you _sound_ like Sparrow again."

"_Captain_ Sparrow," Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. He sat a bit straighter in the chair and picked up the forgotten mirror to glance critically at his reflection. He looked like an absurd English fop, he thought with revulsion and disgust. No one aboard his own ship would recognize him – nor would he _want_ them to now -- not after what Groves and his henchmen had done to him.

Andrew glanced from Jack to Jamie, and then frowned. "Mr. Trenton, did he locate the rum supply, after all?"

**TBC:**


	20. Part 13  Hopeful Dalliance

**Disclaimer: Only mine in my imagination - except for Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle – oh, and the sturdy _HMS Forthright_.**

More mini-drabbles from the post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: With some tweaking **_**most**_** of these drabbles stand by themselves. I apologize for those that might not. Feedback, hopefully, will tell me which ones need work before returning to the APLNM draft. As to those reviewers whom I have yet to respond to – thank you again.**

**Chapter 13 - HOPEFUL DALLIANCE**

Summary: Jack tries to learn more about the suspicious female survivor.

Andrew just shook his head. "What do you plan to say to the lady when she arrives?"

"Hmm, I've given that a bit of thought," Jack said placidly, leaning back into the chair, "and seein' as I'm rather impeded from my usual… uh, more direct approach, shall we say-"

"Jack!"

Sparrow dropped his hand to the table, palm down. He frowned in irritation. "Look, it's not like I've been at me very best, you know."

Groves almost laughed at the pirate's indignant expression. "Are you admitting that you actually don't know what to say?"

"Not say…exactly…" Jack fidgeted, his growing discomfort obvious. "Any chance you might leave us alone? Together? She and I?"

"Enough of your nonsense, Jack," Groves groaned, "The commodore will be here at any time!"

"Aye, but not for me," Sparrow pointed out, poking at himself with a forefinger. "This audience is with the fair lady Isabelle, is it not?"

"That is the intent," Andrew replied, arching his brows.

"Ah." Jack sidled closer to the rum bottle on the table none too subtlety.

"You plan upon concealing yourself behind her skirts then?"

The pirate stopped moving and thoughtfully pursed his lips. "Hm, whilst the idea has its tenable merits - no," he returned, gingerly levering himself up from the chair. "I'll just go and nip back into the cha-OOH!" He caught his breath sharply, grip tightening on the chair arm, every muscle in his forearms visibly straining. "Maybe not... the right word," he gritted, afraid to move in either direction.

"No, maybe not," Andrew agreed solicitously, shaking his head. "Need some help,_ mate_?"

Sparrow's dark look from behind the wounded shoulder said far more than the pirate could have managed. The glower followed Groves around the table to Jack's side where Andrew somehow stifled an unbidden 'had to find out for yourself' grin and loosened Jack's frozen hold on the chair's arms. Once freed, the pirate's body stiffened, then collapsed to unyielding wood like a dropped meal sack. For several tense seconds, Jack barely managed shallow breathing, fighting desperately to get control. It took too much effort, Andrew realized in concern. Jack didn't possess enough strength. From the way that his eyelids fluttered, he was on the verge of passing out.

Against better judgment, Andrew hastily reached behind on the table and nabbed the rum bottle.

"You win," he grated.

To Andrew's surprise, Jack merely regarded him through narrowed lids, and for once no glib rejoinder slipped between his labored breaths.

**TBC **


	21. Part 14  Dangerous Brigands

Disclaimer: Be they mine; I'd be in Hawaii. I can only claim those aboard the _Kugaran, HMS Dauntless_ and _Forthright – _except the stalwart Groves.

More mini-drabbles from the post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: Although 'Pirate's Life' was originally an alternate universe story, it has somehow resolved itself to fit into the events of DMC to include Beckett's initial interest in the chest and how Jack's ship ended up in Turkish waters. **

**Chapter 14 - DANGEROUS BRIGANDS**

Summary: Jack meets robust Captain Shankwell, new captain of the _Dauntless_.

"That, I imagine, would be said fruit lady now."

"Kindly mind your manners," Andrew warned him, "and remember who you are."

"Ah, who I am," Jack remarked, looking down to make certain that his sleeves were buttoned at the cuff. His bad shoulder still ached and he didn't feel up to explaining to anyone about brands and tattoos where a healing powder burn was, in fact, _not_ actually healing, "is a man in sore need of another drink, 'ey?"

"Then by all means, Mr. Blackstone, indulge yourself."

Jack coughed, inwardly cringing. The voice was much too deep for Lady Isabelle, for any woman, in fact.

Slowly, tentatively, Jack raised his head, his eyes took in men's sizable blue breeches, crossed by a heavy sword buckle, unusually wide brocaded jacket at the chest and finally a pudgy face capped off, of course, by one of those unflattering white wigs which the royal navy insist their poor officers must wear. Chewing on the corner of his lip, Jack suppressed an impulse to tear the bottle from his side and guzzle the rum.

"Ah, so it's Captain Shankwell, I presume?" Jack ventured in what he fervently hoped sounded like a cultured greeting to the officer's ears. The encouraging look on Andrew's face reassured him. Still, Jack coughed again for good measure lest anyone forget that he was supposed to be infirmed. "Apologies, good sir, but we were expecting the Lady Isabelle. I do so hope you will forgive me, sir, for not standing."

Shankwell smiled almost sympathetically and nodded. "Oh, that's quite all right, young man. I am to understand then that you were injured while in the performance of your duties for the Crown?"

Jack glanced with exaggerated regret at his wrapped shoulder. "Oh, yes, that would be correct, sir. Most grievously, I fear, preventing me from successfully concluding my duties -- as it were."

Andrew refrained from rolling his eyes and hastily closed the door. "Oh, sir, this is, as you know, Joshua Blackstone. Mr. Blackstone, Captain Harrington Shankwell of the _HMS Dauntless_."

"It's indeed a pleasure, Mr. Blackstone, to meet you," Shankwell declared, dubiously eyeing the sling supporting Jack's left arm. "I daresay, you are most fortunate to be alive, sir, what with the prevailing lawlessness in these waters. Pirates and smugglers are very dangerous brigands to deal with for any honest man."

"Oh, how true, sir." Jack nodded readily, his features open and seemingly unaffected by the slight against his own trade. "As I'd mentioned, however, we were expecting the Lady Isabelle. Would you know, sir, what has become of her? Not indisposed _again_, I would hope."

"No, it would seem that the lovely lady in question has accepted an invitation with Lieutenant Walberg to dine in the _Forthright's_ wardroom," Shankwell returned, avoiding Jack's gaze. "And the commodore has other, well, business needing his attention. I was asked by Norrington, should I find you well enough, sir, to learn what I may of the fearsome battle between, I believe it was the _Kugaran_ and a pirate ship." Shankwell hesitated, glancing briefly at Groves as if to ask permission to continue. "So might you know anything of it, Mr. Blackstone?"

"Battle?" Jack felt the remaining color drain from his face. He had no more answers than the navy did - as a pirate. As an agent of the royal Crown, however, he had to think of something plausible. And since nothing came to mind, he reached for the implausible - not for the first time - and let it take his vivid and playful imagination on a ride. "You've heard of the Trident coins, Captain Shankwell?"

Groves almost choked. "Joshua, are you… sure that you're up to this? You're not looking too well."

"Aye," Shankwell concurred, patting one of his chins. "You do look a bit bloodless, at that. Perhaps this can wait. I'll just give your apologies to the commodore then..."

Sparrow waved off the attempted dismissal, offering the captain his brightest, close-mouthed smile. "The coins are quite real, I assure you, sir. And sadly, I suspect that my contact gave his life to bring that information to my... er, employer, the poor fellow."

This time, Andrew _did_ roll his eyes, but Jack ignored him as he somehow flawlessly maintained his gentleman guise.

"You should know that this particular… coinage, sir, is of _great _– one might even say monumental - value," the pirate resumed almost conspiratorially, and to Andrew's mind, most probably enjoying himself. "Purest gold, ma- my man. One might almost say that they be worth a King's…treasure… at the very least."

**TBC **

**AN: Special mention to Jennifer Lynn Weston. Jennifer, I greatly appreciate your feedback – thank you so very much for the encouragement!! You will certainly be the _first_ to know when I do finish and post APLNM!! **


	22. Part 15  Throwing Rocks

Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.

More mini-drabbles from the AU post-CotBP novel** - A PIRATES LIFE NO MORE**

**AN: Due mainly to lack of needed feedback, once this series is finished, I'm going to pursue other projects during my class break in December. Thank you so very much for the reviews that I did receive. I hope you enjoy the last few and I'll return here in 2008.**

**Chapter 15 - THROWING ROCKS**

Summary: Jack fears that the _Kugaran_, the mysterious ship that attacked the _Pearl,_ has caught up to him.

"Oh, Good God, it's the, it's the warning signal!" He cried, grabbing the spyglass attached to his belt. "Yes, yes, they're signaling to the watch aboard the _Dauntless_ that a ship approaches our cove! I must get back immediately!"

Before Shankwell had huffed himself out the cabin door, Andrew had his spyglasses on the cliff top. "They're throwing… it looks like rocks?"

"Not at the ship, one would hope," Jack remarked dryly, bringing the rum bottle out of his lap.

Groves sighed, taking a moment to look askance at the pirate over his left shoulder. "So your contact gave his life, did he?"

Jack's only response was a shameless smile full of teeth.

Before Andrew could react to the appearance of the rum bottle, Harker stomped up to the cabin door, breathless and wide-eyed. "Sir, I think you need to be seein' this for yourself!"

Swept up in the sudden panic and fright around him, Groves snagged his hat, pausing to regard the pirate before racing after the helmsman. "I'd like to trust that leaving you like this won't be a mistake I will come to regret?"

"Not goin' anywhere, mate," Jack promised. "My word on that, sir."

"Yes, of which we will soon know it's worth," Andrew returned, deflating Jack's agreeable smile as the door slammed behind him. Left alone, Jack hesitated only long enough to ponder the bottle, and then grinned and happily guzzled the rest of the rum.


	23. Part 16  Get Me A Bucket

Disclaimer: They not be mine, I fear. Only Harker, Trenton, Dr. Hasting & Lady Isabelle.

**AN: The drabble series is done! I've decided to include the APLNM intro at the end to _maybe_ whet the appetite for 2008? I'm told that I can do wicked intrigue…**

Chapter 16 - GET ME A BUCKET

Summary: Jack suffers the unfortunate aftermath of his first big meal.

"What?" Groves wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"Walberg. He wants me dead," Jack whispered, frustrated by the exertion to speak. His right hand, cradling the sling, fidgeted briefly, then flew up to make a frantic stabbing gesture at his heart. "Savvy?"

"Lieutenant Walberg wants you _dead_?" Groves echoed in disbelief.

Jack groaned, furiously wagging his forefinger at Groves. "The bloody stupid fool thinks Blackstone... thinks I, we, us – want daft Lady Izzie." He managed a weak, half-pained laugh at the irony of his predicament. "Bloody Blackstone isn't even a_ real _person! But it'd be his... my… life if he was to know who I _really_ am, 'ey?" He laughed again, and then shivered. "I'd tell her myself, only… it's possible that... as unwell as I feel... a slap from a wench would... as likely kill me as not."

Groves almost felt amusement at the man's consternation. He went over to get the spare wool blanket off his bed and threw it around the pirate's shoulders. "I'm very sorry, Jack, but the only port we're planning to make before the Colonies is to restock our low food supplies. There would simply not be enough time to get you off the ship, even if I knew of some way to do it."

Jack sat in dejected silence for several minutes, pulling the blanket tighter around his neck, head tilting to one side. Then a dark brow went up and Groves knew that shrewd mind of Sparrow's was still functioning. "What if I was to, say, come up with a way myself?" he ventured, allowing the blanket to fall as his palm came up for emphasis.

"Under these increasingly bad circumstances, I might entertain it," Groves admitted. But Jack was no longer listening. He looked extremely uncomfortable; all color draining from his face.

"Bucket," he gasped. "Get me a... bucket."

"What? Is this the time to relieve yourself?"

"Like as not a better time," he hissed. "Just get me a... bucket...please?"

"Jack, are you all right?"

Sparrow flashed him a shaky, shame-faced grin. "About to puke my bloody guts out on your deck, mate. What's that tell you, 'ey?"

"Oh, no!"

Groves quickly found a water bucket and slammed it on the deck in front of the pirate's chair as Jack dropped forward to his knees and heaved, then heaved again until every half-digested morsel of rich food was no longer in his stomach. "Should have known," Jack said raggedly, panting and shivering, barely able to balance himself with one arm. "Too much... it was too soon..."

"Not your fault," Groves assured him, catching Jack by his good arm before it could buckle under the pirate's trembling weight. He carefully eased Jack backward to lean against the chair. The pirate looked unusually weak and exhausted, fighting for breath. "Dr. Hasting really should have warned you, Jack, that you might not yet be ready to eat a full meal yet."

Jack managed a sheepish half-grin, wiping the corner of the blanket across his mouth. "Bit late for that, isn't it?"

Fini

**Please come back for the APLNM intro.**


	24. Trenton's Log  APLNM Prologue

**Prologue**** - A Pirate's Life No More **

From Jamie Trenton's log

It started with the arrival of Jack Sparrow from the sea.

The lunacy, the greed, and the miraculous discovery - all can bow in homage at the pirate's salt-crusted sea boots.

Our ship, a brave royal navy Man-O-War, has somehow survived him.

Aye, while we English are of sturdy stock and pride ourselves as bold defenders of the Spanish Main, we were no match for the unrelenting demons tracking the captain of the _Black Pearl_.

I, Jamie Trenton, loyal steward to noble Captain Groves, am surprised to be alive.

As I put quill to parchment, we're bound for the Colonies along the Atlantic coastline on a bright, peaceful morning across a calm, quiet ocean.

Aye, blissfully peaceful - now

Behind us - a swirling Caribbean nightmare of bizarre sea cyclones, an unsinkable vessel, and all manner of craziness still with the power to cause me a good shudder.

Gone - into the deep, shadowed eyes of the crew. Gone with the pirate what brought bloody madness to our decks only to expose a hidden enemy amongst us.

Can't say what became of slippery Mr. Jack, though.

He never said how he knew about the octal archaic.

He spun a wondrous tale of treachery, danger and lost gold no man would soon forget.

I daresay, had poor Mr. Harker known what was to befall us, he would not have pulled the pirate from the stormy waters. Half drowned and sorely wounded, he was that night, but with a clever spirit of the like none had seen before. Who would suspect such deviltry and connivances from a legend nearly choked by Port Royal's hangman not that long ago? Yet, from the very hour he awoke from fever, Sparrow well stirred our new captain into a turmoil of schemes, intrigues and plots whilst his escape and return to his lost black ship be in the planning.

His black ship, as it turned out, was what not quite… lost.

Whether you accept the existence of vengeful sea gods, an old compass that does not point north or ships that cannot be sunk, I'm here to tell you the story, one you may not believe, but one that mostly happened aboard the _HMS Forthright_

Aye, the truth of it is, Captain Jack Sparrow, wherever he now be, proves a man worthy of his own legend.

Thanks, Mr. Jack.


End file.
